


Kinetics

by lupinsnymph



Series: Sketchbooks [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Artists, Army, Artist Steve Rogers, Eventual Stony, M/M, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Steve Feels, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 06:42:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8002327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lupinsnymph/pseuds/lupinsnymph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers is an aspiring artist who finds himself sharing an exhibition space with Tony Stark, the famous sculptor. The two are drawn to one another for reasons Steve can't understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

# Kinetics

Shivering, Steve briskly strode down the pavement cursing the biting wind. Even spending the morning at the gym hadn’t warmed him up enough to face the cold November day. 

He frowned as he walked on. A headache had been slowly building up all day and he hadn’t had time to find some pain relief; his latest client was rather intense and had requested Steve’s assistance constantly. Not that he was complaining. After all, paintings alone couldn’t pay the bills and he usually enjoyed his job as a personal trainer .He liked the satisfaction of helping others to achieve their goals, and it gave him a sense of feeling useful since joining the military hadn’t worked out. Not to mention the free pass he had been given to the gym.

Steve couldn’t contain the pang of anxiety that hit him as he neared the gallery. It had been revealed to him that the artist he would be sharing the space with was non other than Tony Stark. 

How on earth he had managed to put his work next to one of the most well known sculptors was beyond him. Steve had admired his work for a long time now and a part of him hoped that Stark might even like his own paintings. He hoped that when he met Stark he didn’t make a fool of himself, or that the man took a dislike to him- he had a bit of a reputation for being rather rude at times.

Taking a deep breath, he fumbled in his pocket with a numb hand until he found the key to the gallery, it took a few tries but he eventually managed to get the door open. Luckily the space had heating and he rubbed his hands together to warm up as he looked around. He had been given the key a few days ago in order to set up, but the last day had come around rather quickly and Steve needed to get everything ready for the preview the following evening. He hadn’t had much motivation recently, but since he was paying for this he had forced himself here. Perhaps with Stark around there would be more people willing to spend ridiculous amounts of money on art.

All of Stark’s sculptures had already been carefully displayed; intricate designs of animals made with miniature cogs, a delicate scene of flowing figures created from wire. In the centre of the room stood a large abstract shape full of twists and turns that appeared to made out of chicken wire, and there were a great deal of wooden carvings with an extraordinary amount of detail. A bar had also been placed at the back of the room, but the gallery were providing the refreshments for the next day which was one less thing Steve had to worry about.

Lost in the work, the artist didn’t notice he wasn’t alone until a voice behind him spoke up.

“Admiring my work?”

In a two piece suit (rather outshining Steve’s own jeans and paint splattered top), stood Tony Stark leaning against the wall, a steaming coffee in his hand. With a grin he said, “You must be Steve Rogers, I was having a peek at your paintings earlier. The silhouette one’s are great.”

Steve could feel his heart flutter slightly before he grinned back and held out a hand, “Pleasure to meet you Mr Stark. I’m a great fan of your work.” 

The man waved a dismissive hand and smirked, “Please, call me Tony.” He nodded towards the bubble wrapped painting that leaned against the wall. “You need a hand with those?”

Without waiting for a reply, the dark haired man set down his coffee, “It’ll take you all night otherwise- even with those muscles”, and began to help Steve slowly unwrap the canvasses. Tony passed the first one up, and Steve took it from him, their hands briefly touching, and secured it to the wire hangings already in place. 

He grunted as he tried to secure one side. “Would you mind holding this up?”, he asked. 

As a reply, Tony took the weight, standing close to Steve, who caught the scent of coffee and expensive cologne. 

They continued working together until all the paintings had been displayed, all that was left to do was for Steve to stick the titles of his work on the wall. He smiled and turned around, “Thank you, Tony, that took a lot less time than I expected it to.”

Tony had his phone in his hand and had just downed the last of his coffee. With a wink, he gave a small nod towards his phone, “I need to answer this. Hey, it was great to meet you hot stuff, I’ll see you tomorrow evening”, and was out the door before Steve had a chance to form a reply. 

Feeling slightly bemused and flustered, he admired the gallery one last time before locking up and heading back out into the cold afternoon. 

As he slowly walked back towards his apartment, he thought about Tony Stark. He had been much less rude than the tabloids made him out to be. In fact, he had been surprised that the man had even wanted to talk to him, after all Steve wasn’t much compared to Tony Stark. 

After a long tedious walk (he couldn't afford public transport) he finally reached his home and hurried inside, anxious to get out of the cold and to try and complete some more of his current painting.

“Bucky, you home?”


	2. Back to Base

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An insight into Steve and Bucky's relationship.

“Bucky, you home?”

After a moment of silence Steve glanced at the clock and realised that Bucky must still be on his way home from his appointment. Months of tedious arguments had finally resulted in his friend reluctantly agreeing to visit a therapist.

Discarding his coat and shoes by the door, Steve moved into the kitchen and living room area, opened the fridge and frowned in disappointment. Beans on toast would have to do. Growing up without much money had made him resourceful, but even he couldn’t conjure up a meal out of wilted spinach, ketchup and an egg. Bucky had obviously forgotten to do the weekly shop again. 

Since it was still quite early, Steve grabbed his sketchbook and decided to form a rough idea for his next painting that had popped into his head during the walk home. Meeting Tony and seeing his work had inspired him to create an industrial scene with large silhouettes of buildings contrasting with a background of soft colours and delicate scenery. 

Getting carried away, he only stopped when the light suddenly flickered on and he found himself blinking from the unexpected brightness. 

“Bucky! Where have you been?”, he asked with a quick glance at the clock. He should have returned at least an hour ago.

His friend grinned and held up a carrier bag. “Can’t have the artist starving can we? I hope you like Indian- it was the only decent looking place I passed.”

Sitting down at the small table, they dished the takeaway onto plates; he couldn’t stand eating from foil boxes. 

After a few moments Bucky spoke up. “How was Stark? As obnoxious as he usually is?”

Steve frowned slightly and shook his head. “He wasn’t actually bad at all”, he replied, “In fact, he was rather helpful”, he added, thinking about how much time the artist had spent there. 

The other man snorted in disbelief and carried on eating. Steve wanted to explain how Tony had helped him and how the tabloids had exaggerated his behaviour, but kept quiet. A small disagreement would escalate into an argument, and he really didn’t want to spoil the relaxed atmosphere, so they continued dinner in a comfortable silence. 

As they parted later that evening after cleaning up and chatting about the upcoming week, Steve gently touched Bucky’s arm with a smile that received an eyeroll in return. 

He couldn’t quite believe how far his friend had come. The man he saw today had come a long way from the wounded soldier who had refused to leave the house after an IED had caused him to lose his arm. Paranoid, withdrawn and angry, he had been almost unrecognisable. The signs of PTSD had been obvious, but Bucky had refused help, insisting that he was perfectly capable and didn’t need anyone to interfere.   
As the years had dragged on it had become almost unbearable to watch his friend deteriorate, and so he had made a deal. Steve knew that it upset Bucky greatly when he had carried on with his military training, so he had agreed to stop to pursue a career in art, and in return the struggling man would promise to seek professional help as well as to let his friends support him again. 

Now that Bucky had that a support system, a part time job and friends surrounding him, Steve felt as if he could finally relax and focus on himself. 

As he lay in bed, he found himself thinking about the preview the next day, and couldn’t help the nervousness that bubbled up. The thought of lots of people criticizing his work almost made him regret the whole exhibition. However, another part of him was looking forward to showing off his creations, and maybe he would get another chance to talk to Tony.

**Author's Note:**

> How I imagine Tony’s work: http://brimages.bikeboardmedia.netdna-cdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/Nirit-Levav-Packer-bicycle-cog-dog-sculpture.jpg


End file.
